What’s it really like to be a prince? To his horror, British schoolboy Alex Varenhoff finds out when the monarchy is restored in the tiny country of Rovenia.
“To see, to do, to prevail.” The motto of Rovenia stands for bravery and honor. But none of this matters to Alex Varenhoff. Though he was always aware of his tie to the ancient monarchy, Rovenia tossed out the Varenhoff dynasty long ago, when the Communists took over. But Rovenia now finds itself in need of the leadership of a king.
Alex must leave home in England and assume his role in Rovenia as . . . prince? He’s thrust into a life he was never raised for. Alex hates pomp and circumstance, and the hordes of screaming girls that wait everywhere. And this new life is dangerous, for there are Rovenians who oppose the monarchy. Becoming a true prince presents Alex with a heartbreaking challenge far beyond anything he ever expected, one of the greatest challenges that any Varenhoff has ever had to face.
From the Hardcover edition.
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|Title of eBook: Raising the Griffin|
|Release Date: 12-18-2007|
|Allowed Countries (hover)|
|Publisher: Random House Children's Books|
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|Parent title||Raising the Griffin|
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Raising the Griffin
I crouch low on Drummer's neck, leaning into his rocking gallop. He's mad, tearing across the field at top speed. I can't hold him and I don't try. We pass Herald and overtake Wilkinson, who swears at us, and slow as we go into the wood. Drummer strains up the hill, making it a little easier to pull him up and wait for the others.
"What's our excuse this time?" I say, once we're all gathered on the top of the hill. Below us, the open hillside slopes down to the school, where we were due back from a cross-country ride an hour ago.
"We got lost," Herald says with a shrug.
"Third week in a row?" I ask.
"Collectively, we have a very bad sense of direction." Herald bends over and pulls a thin flask out of his boot.
"Except where pubs are concerned," I say.
Herald opens the flask and takes a swig.
"Tell 'em the truth," Wilkinson says. "Varenhoff here wanted to see that blond barmaid with the big tits again."
"And then was too much of a poncey twit to chat her up." Herald passes the flask to Wilkinson.
"I talked to her!"
"Varenhoff," Herald says, "'Can I have a bag of crisps?' isn't exactly a come-on."
I fiddle with Drummer's reins until he dances sideways. "I didn't want to scare her off."
Wilkinson laughs. "What kind of school did you go to before you came here? A monastery?"
The burning in my face fries coherent thought. It's only a matter of time before Wilkinson finds out he's not far wrong, that my experience with women is practically nonexistent. But like today, in the pub, when they g...